


Riamu Yumemi Finally Gets Popular on Twitter

by tokidokisuiyobi



Category: THE iDOLM@STER
Genre: Breast Expansion, Gen, Huge Breasts, Masturbation, Other, Sex Toys, Vaginal Fingering, Vibrators, clitoral stimulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:15:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27313933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tokidokisuiyobi/pseuds/tokidokisuiyobi
Summary: Riamu Yumemi? Popular on twitter? HOW COULD THIS BE?!Find out today in this short story!
Kudos: 6





	Riamu Yumemi Finally Gets Popular on Twitter

**Author's Note:**

> Idolm@ster stories are VERY fun to write, as I've recently discovered.
> 
> As always, comments and feedback are welcomed and appreciated.

The yellow-tinged whiteness of the wall mixed with that of the bed sheets before me, meeting my eyes the second I opened them. The late-morning sunlight shone through the bedroom window pane as I groggily arose, and after a few seconds of being welcomed back to reality, I immediately got to work, tossing and turning my body around along with my sheets.

"Where is it… where is it…" I murmured to myself. However, it only took a few seconds before my forearm met with a small block of plastic and glass. Quickly, I turned on the screen, slightly scowling at the 48% remaining battery life in the top corner while unlocking the device. The lock screen dissipated, and a blue bird app took its place. In the corner, the profile information was displayed -- the profile of the one and only Riamu Yumemi, rising idol star!

"Only 12 notifications?!" I cried out loud, upon eyeing the badge on the notifications tab. My immediate self-search left me just as much disappointment "Hardly anyone's talking about me at all! Yamu…"

Suddenly, I felt alone. What's the point of even going to the agency this afternoon when I'm not even fit to be an idol. No matter what the others say, I know I won't turn heads or get anyone's attention. I sat against the headboard of my bed, still dressed in only my usual loose shirt and a bright pink and white pair of panties, my face buried against my knees as I thought about my dead end idol career and the small handful of dedicated fans that cared enough to give me something new to wake up to in the blue digital world. 

Yamu… so yamu…

"No! I can't give up now!" I sputtered these words audibly, letting encouragement grow inside me as I heard them with my own ears. "There's no way mama Shin would just give up like this, so I shouldn't either!" I continued, thinking about a 26 year old idol from the same studio as me who has always refused to give up on her dreams. If I gave up now, she'd be beyond disappointed in me. Same with Karen, Mayu, and all the others. My heart ached just imagining it. Well, I am known as the idol with a heart made of glass, so it's not surprising, but my point still remained valid.

Finally, I lifted my visage from my thighs and looked around my room, my eyes darting from side to side. "I can fix this situation" I thought to myself "I just need to get myself trending! Yeah, that's it! If I can do that, all the others will be impressed and I'll be on everyone's mind once more!"

My gaze flew from place to place, object to object around my room, and before long I found myself finally rising from my bed and walking around to wherever my curiosity would lead me. Playstation 4? What would I do with that, stream games? Forget it. I'm no good at games, and I'm bad at talking to an audience. Art supplies? Nuh-uh! No one gets to see my art. It's too embarrassing! TV? That won't do anything but waste time and make me more depressed. Books? Writing supplies? NO NO NO! Laptop? Clothes closet? Posters? Anime figures? None of these are of any use to me! Ugh… yamu…

Beginning to sink into a pit of despair yet again, I stop in my tracks, lift the phone in the palm of my hand with the front facing upwards, and turn the screen on. However, it was at that moment when an idea struck me, the genius Riamu Yumemi, and my eyes suddenly widened from the realization. With my line of sight facing down towards my phone, all I had to do all this time was aim a little further downwards. If so, I would see the answer to all my problems. 

Now that I had lowered my eyesight just a little bit more, there they were, staring right back at me: My breasts. Not the biggest in the world, no. Not even the biggest at the agency, as Shizuku Oikawa has me beat by a cool 10 centimeters (why can't I even be the best at anything?). However, they are pretty sizable. I can tell that much with my own two eyes, and upon bringing my left hand up to encapsulate it, I am once again reminded of their softness as it fills my palm and squishes between my fingers. These -- these will be my secret weapon. I'm sure of it. 

But how? I look up towards my phone again, cradled by my right hand, and unlock it instinctively. Hmm… Twitter. Trending. I have to get myself trending as quickly as possible… I look down towards the neck of my shirt again. Boobs. Kyonyuu. Big oppai. They pushed out the front of my loose shirt as if it were a curtain, and they blocked the view of my legs and feet just a bit, though I've had them for so long that I'd almost forgotten a time when the view from above was different. Then, I look back up towards my phone again. The blue bird app. Hashtags. I look towards my shirt. Boobies. Social media. Mammary glands. Bird. Chest. Twitter. Tits. Trending.

A smile crept along my face. I turned my body back towards my bed, picked up a small-ish pillow, and hesitated for a moment. However, before I could give myself enough time to doubt my plan, I shook any possible negative thoughts from my mind and shoved the cushion up my shirt, then turned it horizontally so that it completely covered my chest. Ugh… too flat. This isn't very convincing. Maybe if I fluff it up a bit… 

I slipped the pillow out of the bottom of my shirt and massaged it a little, holding the bottom of my shirt out and stuffing it back up near my shoulders once I'm done. Hmm… a little better, but it still looks really silly. As I removed the cushion once again, I picked up a blanket and did the same, bunching it up inside my shirt. The result? Well, my chest certainly looks much bigger now, but it also looks weird and lumpy. 

Quickly, I looked around the room yet again, this time searching for anything soft or round that I can shove up the front of my shirt. However, the only things in this room that even came close to being viable were my pillows, various stuffed toys, and bedding, all of which would have probably given about the same results or worse than the ones I just tried.

I flopped down onto my bed amongst the many bad excuses for fake boobage and sighed, truly ready to give up. Sorry everyone, nobody cares about me. I'll quit being an idol and fade into obscurity. Well, if I haven't already, that is. Then, suddenly, a single tweet caught my eye:

  
  


Shizuku Oikawa ☑

@_RealShizuku_

Moo ahaha yessss cows so cuuuute 😍😊

  
  


"Bah, what nonsense!"

Well, that's what I said to myself... yet I couldn't look away. I was in SHOCK. 400 likes?! How could that stupid brain fart of a tweet get 400 likes?! And it's only been up for 15 minutes too! As if trying to further feed the fire, I scrolled down the replies, which, of course, exclusively consisted of praise from Oikawa's dedicated fans. 

It was at this exact moment that I stopped caring. I HAD to do something. Without a moment's hesitation, I tapped the "new tweet" button, my nail-polished thumbs moving like lightning as I hammered out a few lines on the touchscreen keyboard before me. Before I could even give myself a moment to lend any kind of second thought to what I was typing up, my tweet had already been finished. 

  
  


Riamu Yumemi ☑

@YamuRiamu

Yamu…! This morning I was struck by the sudden realization that my breasts are much too small for an idol like me. Now, I’ll need my loyal fans to help correct this problem and help my breasts grow to a size more befitting of this pink haired beauty. Quickly give me all of your support as fast as possible, for I am now overcome with shame and with the harshness of reality weighing down on my delicate idol shoulders, I don't know if I'll last even 10 minutes longer!!

1 like = 1 cm

1 retweet = 5 cm

1 reply = 10 cm

  
  


Then, for the cherry on top to tie the whole piece together, I tapped the camera icon near the bottom of the screen, then lifted my phone up near my face and snapped a picture of my currently inadequate upper curves.

Yep, that's a masterpiece alright. But of course, all my tweets are art of the highest degree, unlike those of that cow-brained Shizuku. Anyways, I shouldn't be laying in bed in my underwear this late in the day, I told myself, finally checking the time. 1:38 PM. It wasn't the morning after all. However, waking up at around this time had become the norm for me, and due to most idol activities taking place in the afternoon after high-schools had finished for the day, the afternoon had eventually come to feel like morning to me. In the same way that salarymen and business women all over Japan rushed to work at 6:00 in the morning, I personally made my way to work at 3:00 in my own morning, despite it being the afternoon to most others.

Finally, after being in my thoughts for a minute or two, I finally tapped "send tweet" and lifted myself up from my bed

*VRRRT!*

I felt my soul heal slightly upon hearing the sound of one of my loyal fans vibrating my phone, but it didn't last long. 400 likes. That's my goal -- to surpass that titcow's stupid tweet and become trending. But… what do I do after that? I asked myself this question as my phone vibrated once… twice more. After all, my fans are going to expect my chest to have grown, right? In fact, the more popular my tweet gets, the harder it'll be to fake. My fans might feel betrayed -- or even worse -- they might get angry at me! I could now feel my palms getting sweaty. I was supposed to gain fans, not lose them! I always say that any publicity is good publicity, but now I'm not so sure…

"...Ah well, I'm sure one of the other editors in the agency staff can help edit a photo of me. Yeah, they're really talented, the best of the best! Or maybe I'll buy the biggest size bra on shelves and stuff it with tissues! At worst, I can probably just brush it off as a silly stunt."

As I said this to myself out loud, it instantly replaced the evil thoughts that had been plaguing my mind just now, despite my phone going off on my bedsheets behind me. Nice save, Riamu! With a more optimistic state of mind, I made my way over to my chest of drawers to finally start my day.

"I suppose a skirt will be fine for today" I mumbled to myself, wishing I could just stay in my skimpy sleepwear for the rest of the day. For now, at least, I picked out a nicely colored pair of bottom-wear and placed it gently on top of the dresser. Then, after picking out a shirt, that of which I had originally bought upon Frederica's recommendation, I brought out a relatively plain brassiere to go under it. Finally, I unfolded a long pair of pink kneesocks, completing my relatively boring outfit, matching with my paltry sense of fashion. At this point I had decided that I still wasn't quite ready to change into my street clothes just yet, so I made a compromise, telling myself that I'll put on the rest of my undergarments now and change into the rest of my clothes once I'm ready to leave the house.

Now with that line of thinking, I stepped into each sock while my phone vibrated over and over again, and finished by pulling them up each calf. The constant vibrating was making me anxious, I wanted to check so, so bad, the suspense was killing me! "You can check after 10 minutes, Riamu," I gently reminded myself. "The challenge was for 10 minutes. Just think of it as a surprise awaiting you."

I checked the time - only a little over 1 minute had passed. Such torture! One day the history textbooks will surely describe this type of Japanese torture to future generations of children all over the world!

With great effort, I turned my attention back to my clothes. All I have left to do is put on this one last article of clothing, then I can do whatever else for a few minutes, and then finally, I can check up on the most popular pair of tits on twitter! But of course, such a pretty pair needs to be protected and cradled gently, just as an idol's should. I then snatched up my bra and…

"...urrrgghhh!" 

With my hands hard at work under my oversized t-shirt, I wrapped the band around the middle of my ribcage, the straps constricting my shoulders as the hooks failed to connect time and time again. Confused as to what exactly the problem was, I rolled up the front of my shirt and bunched it up under my chin as I looked down, then made my hands get back to work. However, as I pulled the ends of the band back and tried to interlock the hooks once again, I made a peculiar discovery. Now using the rest of my arm strength to finally clasp the hooks of my upper garment, I witnessed my bra cups bend and deform around my breasts, those of which even the band was struggling to contain.

"Agh-" I groaned from the tightness. However, the sound of my phone vibrating instantly brought me back to a reality I had almost forgotten about. "No way… have these things seriously…?"

It was unthinkable, yet there was no other possible answer. I was now forced to face an unbelievable phenomenon happening right before my eyes. I let my shirt go, having it drop over the front of my body like a stage curtain, then dashed towards my bed. Every few seconds that passed added a couple of centimeters to my bust, as per the rules I had made up myself only a few minutes ago. 

I check the time - about 8 minutes remaining.

Swiftly picking up my phone and bypassing the lock screen, I headed straight to the notifications tab. 20 likes. 5 retweets. That's it?! It's been over 2 minutes!! Wait- my chest is actually growing! Let's see… 20 likes - 1 cm each… 5 retweets - 5 cm each… I started at 95 cm… I'm not the best at math, but if my calculations are correct…

"140 centimeters…"

*PING!*

The surprisingly loud sound of my cute bra's metal hooks violently bending and breaking before ripping from the fabric resounded throughout my smallish room as the straps loosened and fell down my shoulders a little. This didn't come as such a surprise though, not only because it was only barely holding on from the beginning, but also because my tweet got a reply at the same time as two other fans gave it a like, and one other gave it a like plus a retweet.

"Actually, uhh… 158 centimeters!"

I check the retweeter's profile. This person seemed like a very dedicated Yamu fan indeed, a yamu fan with… 8.4k FOLLOWERS?!

Just then, my chest jutted outward a couple more centimeters. I go back to read the reply my tweet had received moments earlier.

"Too small? Those things are quite huge already! Ah well… as a fan, you have my neverending support!"

Flattered as I felt while reading that reply, my bust size once again stole my attention, surging 34 centimeters larger within the span of only a few seconds, matching the rhythm of my phone's vibrating as it did so. Still, the numbers on my tweet were weak compared to the lame nonsense about cows Shizuku had spouted earlier. 400 was my goal, and I had 7 minutes left to achieve it. Wait - 400 likes? Retweets and replies aside, that would bring my bust size to about 500cm! As if in response to my sudden realization, my budding boobies jumped forward another several centimeters within my shirt. I looked down, my chest now pressing against my mattress as I kneeled beside my bed, still in the position I had taken when I swiped my phone off my mattress. I felt conflicted. I wanted attention. I craved likes, retweets, replies, all that good stuff. But, well… a bigger bust size wouldn't be all that bad either. Yet, mine had already surpassed Shizuku's. How much bigger does an idol like me need to be? I soon came to a conclusion, and, let me tell you, the answer may surprise you. All of a sudden, I let out a quiet squeak as my oppai surged another couple of tens of centimeters… then another furthermore, forcibly pushing me away from the side of my bed.

Although I had discovered long ago that my growth i had originally bluffed about was very much real, the sight of my breasts suddenly bloating up in large spurts still shocked me to the very core, though I couldn't quite tell if it was excitement or dread I was feeling. At the very least, I decided it would now be a good idea to move into a more comfortable position. However, once I had to stand up on my own two feet, I fully felt the effects of my transformation. The two basketball sizes sacks of fat strapped to my chest weighed me down significantly while their growth continued to push my shirt out, the bottom of the garment now having elevated high enough to reveal my belly button. After wobbling in place for a few seconds while my legs shakily tried to find their balance, a growth spurt bigger than any I had experienced beforehand pulled me forward, sending me tumbling down to the ground onto my hefty chest pillows. 

"Ughhh..."

Recovering from my rough descent, I lifted my head and looked around, taking note of my body's new current position and location as quickly as possible. Yet there was one thing that pulled me back to my senses faster than anything else, and you can probably guess what that was. As I struggled, practically anchored to the floor, my soft, fleshy mountains had now freed themselves from their confines, the fabric now bunched up near my shoulders as my boing-boings carried on expanding at a record pace. I didn't even need to look at my phone to know that my tweet was now gaining traction, and there were still 5 minutes remaining until the tweet's conditions were met. Despite this, my curiosity got the best of me, encouraging me to pick my phone up off the carpet floor and turn on the screen once more. 

"347 likes?? 28 retweets?! …and I've got a few more replies too."

The amount of likes and retweets I had just voiced became outdated almost instantly as more and more fans got in on supporting their favorite idol, the constant growth spurts surprisingly giving me more and more freedom to move my body. Before, I had to bend over my breasts, which were planted firmly on the ground. Now, however, it had only taken them a few seconds to grow so large that I was almost able to stand up straight with my overgrown idol assets positioned right in front of me, the tops of the two jiggly blobs meeting me at just under shoulder level. Still, with my phone right under my face, I read the replies:

"What does this mean, exactly? Are you getting breast enhancement surgery? There's no way the doctors will make 'em that big.

I'll just ignore that one.

"Don't worry, Riamu-sama! Have my support!"

"You deserve the biggest breasts an idol could ever dream of!"

"Congrats on 500 likes, Queen Yamu!"

Wait -- 500 likes?! I scrolled back up to my tweet and checked the numbers. 574 likes - 63 retweets. I… I beat Shizuku...! Upon being struck by the big realization, I felt a warm sensation materialize between the base of my thighs. And that makes these things… uh… 

"over… one… thousand… centi… meters..." I shamefully squeaked out in delight while my breasts quickly creeped along the floor of my room, their tallness also slightly impairing the view in front of me. I didn't even bother counting anymore. Measurements hardly meant a thing to me now, and counting was of no use when the numbers rose faster than I could calculate them. I checked the time - only a minute and a half remained. On my phone, I returned to my original tweet and began typing a reply.

"Hello, all my magnificent fans out there! If I don't have the fattest idol tits the world has ever seen within the next minute, I don't know what I'll do! Yamuuuuu~!"

I hit the send tweet button, then retweeted the original tweet, both actions adding a combined 15cm to my own extremely overgrown bustline. Almost right away, my peachy globes exploded in size, their speed accelerating to an unimaginable pace. The suddenness of it all made me flinch, my vibrating phone jumping out of my hand and falling into the deep crevice between my gargantuan milkers. Quickly, I reached in and tried to fish it out, yet the few times I managed to touch it only sent it falling further down.

"Yamu…" I expressed my despair, the only remnant of my phone being its enthusiastic reverberations that could be felt between deep down in the canyon of my cleavage, causing it to move or fall a tiny bit every once in a while. It was then that I felt my thickened, pink buds stiffen intensely as they pressed against the wall several meters in front of me, and soon after, I could feel the sides of my soft mounds of flesh devouring my desk and television, stopping at nothing to reach the opposing walls. However, over all of the commotion of my sexy sensory overload, one sensation ruled supreme.

"Mmnngh!!"

A high pitched moan abruptly leaped from my lips, that being one of both surprise and carnal satisfaction mixed together. Although my first thought was one of slight confusion, it didn't take much for me to understand what had happened, my hips instinctively grinding on a thin object peeking out of my lower cleavage giving it away easily. If the identity of this device wasn't obvious before, the way it was still vigorously vibrating practically nonstop definitely revealed the secret. Now my chest pillows towered over me, completely blocking my forward facing vision while taking up all of the space in my room ahead of me. All that was left was my bed and the space around it, and soon I found myself being forced backwards onto my sheets as my blossoming body threatened to take up more and more space.

However, this didn't bother me one bit. I wasn't in the right state of mind to be panicked, or worried, or scared. The sensation of my enormous, sensitive nipples scraping against the wall, the sensation of me big honkin' boobies pressing against the floor, ceiling, and walls all at once, the sensation of my fans' support buzzing within the wetness between my legs - all of these combined were enough to distract me from the consequences of my reckless actions. While complying with the wall of boobflesh advancing towards me, I reached down and dislodged the rectangular device from my cleavage, not willing to risk it getting swallowed up once again. 

"Nngh… AHHN…!"

I let out a loud gasp, then panted deeply as I shoved the makeshift vibrator down into the bottom my undies and rubbed it against my fuzzy lower lips, and my hips bucked furiously once I began to target my swollen clitoris. "If my stupid idol life ends by being crushed by my own huge boobs, I think that would be just fine. If this stupid apartment ends up being destroyed by my giant tits, I think that would be okay." I recited to myself in my head, making the best of this out-of-control situation while in a lust-fuelled daze.

Thankfully, nothing of the sort ended up happening.

Kneeling among my smooth bed sheets, my desire-tainted voice showing itself between heaving breaths as I clumsily crushed my painfully erect clit with the corner of my phone, my thighs trembling in response to the heavy stimulation. I was oh so very, very close. I just needed a little bit more, and I could feel a buildup of emotions climbing up inside my core, encouraging me to do my best for the big finale. Swiftly losing strength in my body, I collapsed forward onto the enormous mounds of pillowy softness directly in front of me and convulsed passionately, riding wave after wave of venereal bliss as my still vibrating phone was doused with a large serving of liquid love. There I layed, dreamily drifting into unconsciousness, not even having realized as of yet that my growth had come to a halt.

  
  


The peachy-tinged whiteness of the boobwall mixed with that of the bed sheets before me, meeting my eyes the second I opened them. The mid-afternoon sunlight was blocked from shining through the bedroom window pane as I groggy arose, and after a few seconds of being welcomed back to my new strange reality, I immediately got to work, reaching into my soggy panties to pull out my phone. The lockscreen indicated several missed calls and texts from both P-sama and other idols, but I carried on unlocking my phone, for I wasn’t interested in those at the moment.

“2472 likes??? 738 retweets?? 46 replies??” I expressed my shock out loud to myself. Of course, not all of these numbers had gone to my bust, some of them having been added after the 10 allotted minutes had elapsed. God only knew what my measurements were like now. However, it didn’t matter. I had gotten what I had wished for. I had beaten that stupid cow’s tweet. I got fans to show me support and give me attention, while simultaneously gaining new ones. However, upon checking the trending tab, I noticed that there was still one goal remaining that I had forgotten to fulfill. “No problem” I thought calmly, starting a new tweet.

  
  


Riamu Yumemi ☑

@YamuRiamu

Yamu… janaiyo! 

I’d like to give a HUGE thank you to all my devoted fans who lent me their support earlier today, curing my sickness! Because of you, I'll surely be able to fill every single edge and corner of each stage I visit with my soft Riamu goodness!

#YamanaiRiamuNoOppai

  
  


Then, I tap the camera button at the bottom of the screen, turn my body as much as a girl with a bust size far into the 4 digit range could, then extended my arm out in front of myself. It was as if I was taking a selfie with a good friend, but instead, I was showcasing my monumental bosom as a gift for all of my amazing fans! Click! Send tweet. 

It only took a few seconds before my phone buzzed once again, inviting me to return to paradise. However, upon pressing the electronic device to the already newly dampened spot between my legs, I only ended up disappointed. It just wasn't the same. Something was missing.

"Yamu…"

I slump behind my breasts and begin to sulk, though it only takes my brilliant mind a few moments to deduce what had caused the rush ecstasy that was now missing from the current scene: the strangely intense sensation of rapid growth. I receive another call from P-sama, but I decline it without a second thought. I wasn't done yet, and when he finds out what I've been up to, he'll definitely excuse my absence. In fact, I'll think of this as a treat for P-sama, as well as all of my dedicated fans. I smile happily at the thought, cherishing it for a second before moving on to the next logical step. I open a new tweet and, after tapping the camera icon, I position my camera to point down behind me while turning and tilting my head to share the view.

*Click!*

Now contained within my tweet-in-progress was a nice image of my smooth thighs and my modest, fabric-covered rump.

"Perfect~" I sang to myself excitedly, swiftly typing up the rest of the tweet, the sensitive bits between my thighs already drooling and twitching in anticipation.


End file.
